


No Easy Understanding

by JakkuCrew (fromstars)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: ...yeah, M/M, Remember when Katara threatened to End Zuko's Destiny Permanently?, Righteously angry Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromstars/pseuds/JakkuCrew
Summary: He hated Ben Solo.And whatever his loyalties to the Resistance and to General Organa were, Poe deserved that much.[Knightpilot Week: Poe protects his family's Legacy.]





	No Easy Understanding

“Let me guess,” the man seated before Poe Dameron said placidly, drawing out each word without relish. “You talk first.”

Poe shrugged, meeting the tired glare of Kylo Ren. _No_ , Poe thought, the glare of _Ben Solo_. Kylo — _Ben_ , leaned against the wall of his cell heavily, his hands bound in front of him. It was strange to see the man without his mask, to see where he had his father’s looks but his mother’s deep, earthy eyes.

And a split lip and other bruises that were entirely his own. (No doubt well deserved.)

“Didn’t really see you as the story-time type,” Poe said, sitting on a chair across from the — well, was prisoner the right word?

And there it was again, the searching look of Ben Organa Solo — an odd man who spoke little and seemed inclined to try to feel even less. He was just a prisoner, Poe knew. And worse, he was a prisoner that was messy to deal with: one that scared the enlisted kids, had too many connections to their brass, and was generally unpleasant.

And still, it was Ben who seemed to be steeling himself against something. Poe hesitated.

“I can tell you think I want to talk about your ‘interrogation’, you know,” he said, stopping the rotation of his arm to look down at Ben.

There was something in his eyes, Poe thought. Not remorse, but something closer to uncertainty. Ben Solo’s shoulders had remained tense this entire time, and it hadn’t been from lingering pain. His body looked rigid, jaw clenched in anticipation, and if he listened closely, Poe could hear the slow and even breaths of someone trying to ground themselves. Or prepare for something —

Retribution — _revenge_.

_Damn._

Poe refused to entertain any pity that the man before him might be afraid.

“I hated it,” Poe said, clearing his mind of the memories, easy as you pleased. He’d worked hard for that kind of discipline, that kind of ability to fight through pain or memory. He wasn’t about to lose his cool on a prisoner, no matter how much the other man seemed ready for him to strike. “I hated you, Poe continued, the lightness of that acknowledgement filling him.

He hated Ben Solo.

And whatever his loyalties to the Resistance and to General Organa were, Poe deserved that much.

“Of course you do,” Ben said dully. “However foolhardy you are, you’re not an idiot.”

Poe cleared his throat in an imitation of laughter. “Right. Well, at least you recognize it in other people.”

“Your point?” the other man prompted, raising his bound hands. “You came here for a reason. It’s not my company.”

In another galaxy, Poe might have laughed at the wryness of Ben’s comment. In this one, he simply bit his lip in annoyance.

“No,” Poe said. “You already know I hate you. That I don’t trust you. That I still took the mission to imprison you alive anyways.”

“I came of my own free will—,” Ben sniffed, pulling his shoulders up to reflect a sense of remaining dignity. Or defensiveness, Poe wasn’t sure. He didn’t overmuch care.

“Too little, too late,” Poe countered. He crouched, leveling his gaze with Ben’s, watching as the other man finally straightened on his cot. “But you claim to be reformed. Or willing to reform. Your mother believes in you, and while I’m happy to question authority, I can’t command a Resistance fleet that way.”

Poe paused, and sucked in a breath. He’d told himself doubt would destroy the Resistance, just like hesitation would drop him from the skies. And as much as he hated it, unwavering dedication was only a sliver away from fanaticism.

Investigating that thought too closely was well above his pay grade.

Instead, Poe had concentrated on the real problem at hand, the one he knew how to deal with and how to measure — the bloody and relentless effort to keep his parent’s dream alive. The only legacy he had.

_Resist._

_Rebel._

_Raise hell._

“I want to make something very clear,” Poe said, lowering his voice to barely more than a whisper. “You are the biggest threat to my fleet’s morale. I don’t care who believes in you. I don’t care who you’ve convinced. I don’t care who your mother is—,” he leaned closer, “If you slip up, if you so much as take one wrong step, or look even a little dark in your 'force-field', I will resolve the issue. _Personally_.”

“A threat?” Ben said, distaste furrowing his brow.

“A promise.” Poe replied. “It doesn’t matter how much faith people have in your big change. But if I find any doubt? Any concerns?”

“You’ll kill me. Of course.”

Poe shrugged. “It won’t fix the lives you’ve destroyed. And it won’t make me a better person. But I’m not a Jedi, and I’m not a politician. I’m a soldier. And I’ll do what needs to be done. For my fleet.”

Poe Dameron would do what Leia Organa would never consider. He’d cut her losses, so she wouldn’t have to. Keep the blood of her only child from her hands, if it came to that.

“—Understand?”

“I understand you’re not half as light-hearted as people think you are,” Ben said, inclining his head ever so slightly. “And that you’re an excellent sniper.”

Poe laughed, pushing himself back up to a standing position.

“Look at us,” he said, keying in the access codes to the exit, “— we’re finally seeing eye to eye.”


End file.
